


You Make Me Bold

by alittlebitcloser



Series: You Bring Me Home [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: 80s dykes in London, Established Relationship, F/F, Madonna scene redemption iykyk, Maybe Together We Can Get Somewhere adjacent, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebitcloser/pseuds/alittlebitcloser
Summary: Jan was a perfectionist.But sometimes, things didn’t go according to plan.Months later it would niggle at her, shake her by the shoulders, constantly there. She envied Jackie, who could take waves of things not quite going to plan, and would simply clean up after them in peace.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport
Series: You Bring Me Home [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874350
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	You Make Me Bold

**Author's Note:**

> So 80s lesbians it's been a while and this one-shot has been such a long time coming! Over 1000 words of this has been sat in my docs for months and it's only now that I've picked it back up and absolutely powered through the rest. It felt like coming home coming back to these lil angels and this fic is still one of my favourite things dreamy sighhhhh
> 
> I hope you like it whether you read it as a standalone or with the full backstory of the original 80s fic! 
> 
> And if you want to see the scene this is redeeming without committing to a whole multi-chap it's the end of chapter 2 of Maybe Together We Can Get Somewhere (Any Place is Better)!

Jan was a perfectionist. 

But sometimes, things didn’t go according to plan.

Months later it would niggle at her, shake her by the shoulders, constantly there. She envied Jackie, who could take waves of things not quite going to plan, and would simply clean up after them in peace. Jackie took criticism well, she took it better than Jan. Jan had a suspicion that this was because Jackie could figure out a way to best control her situation from the criticism she had been given, and when she confidently told her so, Jackie had just adjusted her round rimmed glasses and agreed. 

Jackie said that Jan could be a little sensitive to criticism. She quickly added that it wasn’t necessarily in a _bad way._ Determined not to prove her right, Jan gritted her teeth and smiled with a nonchalant shrug of _maybe._

As much as Jan wanted to let go of things and be a little less obsessive about perfection, there was one event she just couldn’t throw away. She had tried to discard it, but the urge to fix it and remake it was driving her insane. She found herself biting her lower lip, leaning against the counter in the bookstore as Jackie closed up, thinking about it. She was flicking through her new book. Jackie had gifted her with the new Jeanette Winterson after she watched Jan devour _Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit_ and _The Passion_ in quick succession. Jackie had read it first, annotated it in her spiky, capitalised hand, because in Jackie’s head that was the pinnacle of romance.

The way Jan expressed romance was a little different. She wanted to fix that one thing niggling at her brain, and she figured it wasn’t selfish at all because Jackie was about to be romanced in true Jan style. 

And, maybe, just maybe, she would be successful this time.

She started to concoct her plan in a particularly boring lecture on Ernest Hemingway, her patience for his work wearing incredibly thin. She was pretty sure that she put more thought into the way she had coiffed her light hair that morning than he’d put into any of the women in his books. Jan chewed absent-mindedly on the top of her pen, casting her mind back to where it all went wrong the first time. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seduced Jackie since then, hell no, that had happened _lots and lots of times._

But the one time she’d gotten wasted and utterly failed to tempt Jackie into kissing and fucking the life out of her was to _Madonna_ and it felt sacreligious. 

It was time to repent, but Jan grinned to herself, because that’s definitely not what she learnt about repentance at Catholic school. 

****

Jan had pouted her way into Jackie’s studio apartment, for lack of a better phrase.

That is, she’d turned up to _Category Is…_ to find Jackie in an overtly patterned burgundy shirt, handling the quiet day out front while Bob worked from his office. He had offered a _hey, lesbians_ before approaching the desk that was all but drowning in papers. 

Jan thought she was a genius. She’d put on her best whiny tone and complained about her flatmates being unreasonably loud when all she wanted was a nap (the loudness was a lie, them being unreasonable was not, and Jan counted down the days until she was due to move in with her friend Lemon). With a bat of her lashes and a pitch of voice high enough that only dogs could hear her, Jackie easily conceded and plonked her keys down onto the counter.

“Janny, just go to my place.”

Jackie gave her a small smile over her glasses, pushing the round-rimmed frames back up over the bridge of her nose.

“I finish at six.”

But you couldn’t get anything completely past Jackie. Jan’s brightening brown eyes and sudden beaming smile was an immediate transformation that had her frowning, questioning, suspicious. 

_“Jacks,_ what?” Jan’s eyes were wide as she scooped the keys up, giving a performative shrug and a high giggle. She was probably laying it on a little thick, but there was no going back now.

There was a beat of silence before Jackie simply huffed a laugh and shook her head, pushing some of her curls behind her ear to reveal circular silver drop earrings.

“I don’t even wanna know.”

Jan took that opportunity to lean over the counter and her stacked bangles clanked against the wood. Her platform trainers lifted off the ground as she placed all of her weight onto her hands to steal a kiss over the threshold, and she was steadied by the way Jackie cupped her face for those few moments. Jan being Jan, she lost her balance, and squeaked a complaint about how clumsy she was before landing safely back on her feet.

Jackie’s smirk told Jan to expect an ever so slightly snarky remark that was drenched in affection nonetheless. That's how she got away with it with everyone they knew. Jan told them all to watch out, that she was quietly full of shady observations, and Jackie somehow escaped with descriptions like wholesome. _Yeah, right._

“Think you can get to my place without hurting yourself?” 

“I’ll give it my best shot, doll.”

On that note, Jan winked at Jackie and swiftly escaped. Spring was giving way to Summer, and the slew of bright green leaves adorning the trees proved it. Hurriedly, her trainers took her down the pavements of St Pancras and beyond (her budget was not forgiving to more tube journeys than strictly necessary. On her travels, she ran into an ever so aloof Nicky who was protectively clutching a bag of snacks whilst smoking a cigarette. Predictably, she was on her way to meet Jaida, the girl who just kept coming back around ever since Jackie’s last birthday. Jan gave her a _look,_ the one that suggested Nicky might be on her merry way to monogamy. Nicky only snorted and said she’d come straight from Rock’s place, so better luck next time.

“You look shifty, Janice.” Nicky sang in her Parisian drawl, poking Jan hard in the middle of her chest. “Where are you going?”

Anticipation must have been emanating off Jan in droves because it seemed like everyone could tell that she was up to something. She tried to control her excitement, set her shoulders a little less tense, but probably failed.

“Just Jackie’s.”

“Hmm. Well,” Nicky started, seeming satisfied with her answer as she carried on down the street. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Jan sped down the pavement and snorted to herself at Nicky’s parting words. She had no idea how true they rang.

****

Phase one: Grab her favourite set of matching underwear from her own flat (well - room in a flat). She’d once splashed out and regretted it immediately because London was so unbearably expensive, but she could never bring herself to return them. It was now their time to shine.

Phase two: Set up Jackie’s studio.

Phase three: Wait.

It was simple enough, and in no time at all, Jan was falling into Jackie’s door and putting on the Bananarama record Lemon had gotten her recently obsessed with. 

It didn’t take her long to shed her clothes, and Jan admired the way she looked in silk underwear. The gentle lilac (she had a brand to stick to) looked delicate against her pale skin, and Jackie’s deep red robe was a snug addition over the top of it to keep her warm. Her dancing was more bouncing on the balls of her feet as she opened the fridge and hummed at the sight of cheese which she pulled out. The Red Leicester doused on crackers was the only way to do it when she couldn’t bite into blocks of parmesan. Her little Italian-American heart was hurting, but her stomach was happy.

Jan was sprinkled in a smatter of crumbs when she heard the key in the door, and her eyes widened in panic as she all but stuffed her face.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her whispers were frantic as she sped across the floorboards, tossing Jackie’s garnet robe haphazardly onto the bed as she hollered: “Jacks! One sec!”

The elastic of her underwear was digging into her hips in the way she knew would leave glowing marks, but that didn’t matter right now because Jackie was coming in the fucking door before she was _ready_ and cracker crumbs around her lips were not sexy-

_Slam._

Jan had firmly shut the door in Jackie’s face and slid the chain across the latch. 

“What the hell, Jan?-” Jackie’s incredulous laugh bled through the tiny crack in the door like the way a puddle of water would travel and grow on the creaky floorboards beneath them.

“Just like- Gorg, you gotta wait.” Jan panted, her back against the door as if to keep Jackie out and one hand on her softly rounded hip. 

“Jackie, pleeeeease?”

A bemused sigh. The sound of rubber soles against wood. 

“Fine. Two minutes, Jan! But that’s it!” 

Jackie’s voice was laced in an easy smirk, and Jan knew her well enough to picture how her lips gently formed around the words and around her name. But Jan couldn’t spend too long dwelling on the fact because she was clearing the space of crumbs, popping the Madonna record on, lighting the half melted candles that balanced in the wine bottles on the window sill. 

Had there been enough time to have done all this already? 

Sure. 

But Jan had spent all of that on the pursuit of snacks and dancing around in her underwear to Bananarama for the whole street to see so here she was.

Jan thought she was so slick and clever for playing the record from _Angel,_ the song before what she wanted. Tossing her permed tresses over her shoulder and grinning, without a hint of trepidation, she finally allowed herself to undo the latch so Jackie could let herself in. 

Jackie entered tentatively, hesitant about the unknown that lay behind the door and the unknown that Jan was responsible for. Jan knew full well that she was unpredictable - she’s suggested all sorts at all sorts of times - but she also knew that Jackie enjoyed that about her. She encouraged her to embrace it. Jackie’s apprehension was short-lived however when she caught sight of her girlfriend clad in only pretty silk underwear. At that, she made quick work of deftly pushing the door closed.

Jan bit her lip, and she waited. 

Jackie leant back against the wood of the door, quirking an eyebrow with a smile playing about her lips as she made no secret of dragging her gaze over Jan’s body.

“And what if I’d opened the door wide enough for the old lady down the hall to see?”

Jan didn’t expect those to be Jackie’s first words upon seeing her, but then again, how typically _Jackie._

Jan simply snorted. 

“Doris? Jacks, she loves me, feeds me cookies as I pass, she’s a literal angel.”

“I mean, _sure Jan,_ but she also asks how my ‘little friend Janice’ is doing, so this might have been a little much for her heart to take.” Jackie let her leather bomber slide off her shoulders as she spoke; Jan had picked it out when it became a little too warm for her trusty emerald trench coat. 

Jackie didn’t bother to crouch down and begin the laborious task of unlacing her Doc Martens, clearly deciding that Jan was far more inviting, because within a few seconds she was ghosting her hands over her curves and looking at her like she was a wonder. Jan slid her arms up and over Jackie’s shoulders, tugging her down for a kiss that promised more.

“Not that I’m not _thrilled-”_ Jackie began once they pulled away, her thumbs under the elastic waistband of Jan’s underwear where they provided gentle, soothing rubs. “But what brought this on, Janice? Hm?”

Full naming each other was always met with melodramatic eye rolls, and always signalled shock or mockery.

“ _Jacqueline-”_ Jan scolded her, drunk on Jackie’s touches. “Do I need a reason?”

Her reason was entirely self-involved (well, not entirely), entirely a symptom of incessant perfectionism, entirely the kind of thing Jackie wouldn’t quite get. Jackie loved control, Jan loved perfection. There was a difference. 

Jackie’s kisses descended Jan’s neck, across the expanse of her collarbone, all while her hands splayed out across her back and held her close. Her hold was firm and unshaking, rather like her love for Jan, and she loved every stupid little thing that she did. Whether she struggled to read French wine names or made a clueless comment without thinking, it only provoked endeared chuckles rather than any judgement. Jan knew that she didn’t see that first drunken night together as any sort of mistake that needed fixing, but it played on Jan’s mind like a broken record and she was drenched in second hand embarrassment whenever _Like a Virgin_ played. Lemon told her that she was bored of her complaining, encouraging her to _get over it or fix it or like...I’ll literally do it for you to make you shut the fuck up._

Jan wasn’t sure what doing it for her entailed, but as Jackie dragged soft lips across her skin and down her sternum, she decided this was much better.

Much, much better.

Jan tugged at Jackie’s wrists, curled her hands around them where they held her, and her impatient sounds encouraged them to migrate towards the couch where Jackie was pushed down. By the time Jan was pushing her hips down into her lap, the introduction to _Like a Virgin_ had started playing and Jackie (never missed a fucking trick Jackie) was laughing softly underneath her, and the warm huffs of it into Jan’s mouth felt hot in an all-encompassing way. 

“Oh my god, _Jan…_ Really?”She was bemused, fond, full of affection as she twirled a finger into the artificial blonde of Jan’s coiled hair. _“Really?”_

“Jacks, I swear, literally just let me have this.” 

Jackie acquiesced with a minute nod and a hum as she slid her hands into where the delicate bra held Jan’s tits, thumbing over her nipples as her breaths heaved and her body was melodic with the music. Fingers trailed down to where her hips sat comfortably, faded stretch marks creating works of art there, and Jackie took every opportunity to gently press her fingertips into the supple skin even while Jan controlled every gyration. Jackie touched the marks that signalled growth and movement and natural evolutions like they were drawn to be treasured. Like she would pay good money to keep them.

If only to make her laugh, Jan allowed the lyrics about feeling _shiny and new_ spill out into Jackie’s mouth. A breathless confession framed in hot, unbridled want as Jan found that spot on Jackie’s trousered thigh that made her gasp. Carelessly, she tossed her hair over her other shoulder in an effort to get it out of her face, but Jackie’s low _Jesus Christ, Jan you’re so hot_ was both tender and encouraging, tugging her to lean in so she could feel wet kisses of want against her tits. The material of her underwear and Jackie’s jeans were creating the most delicious sensations against her clit, the kind that made her movements a little less controlled and little more led by her pleasure.

“Mm, Jacks?” Jan had a hand tangled in Jackie’s curls, and she tugged them at the roots when she felt her cup her pussy through the material, allowing her to ride her hand instead.

She was almost losing it, teetering on the edge of giving into her innate need for Jackie, but there was a job to do. So when she listened to the chorus and Jackie made an affirmative sound in response, the smirk that adorned Jan’s face was anything but innocent.

“Do you like that you were the first person to touch me? To _really_ touch me?”

Jackie’s groan and the way her nails possessively dug into Jan’s skin said everything she couldn’t with her lips wrapped around her nipple. 

Jan took it as a sign to continue.

“Y’know- Mm, Jackie...” She was becoming breathless, but the music spurred her on and kept her on track. “Nobody could ever touch me like you-”

She was cut off by the feeling of Jackie pushing silky material aside, rubbing her clit and _fuck,_ skin to skin contact felt so good. Jackie was practiced in what Jan liked, what could get her off quickly or what could drag it out and make her really need it, and right now she couldn’t seem to decide about the latter or the former as Jan’s words seemed to do their job. When Jackie pulled away to meet her gaze, her stare was glazed over with sheer lust and determination to watch Jan’s expressions, especially as she slipped one and then two fingers inside her.

“Nobody?” Jackie murmured, letting her free hand cup Jan’s face and her thumb trace over her open lips. 

“Nobody.” Jan’s affirmative whisper was shaky, trembling with the sensation of Jackie’s fingers filling her and pumping inside of her in a way that let her palm brush against her clit. She met the way her fingers curled, ground her hips down to gain that desperate friction, welcomed Jackie’s thumb into her mouth and whimpered around it. Jan sucked, and Jackie huffed in appreciation with a low sound that lay in her throat.

Jan’s slightly frantic nods were out of rhythm with whatever was playing now, and the sounds faded into a white noise where Jackie’s voice and her breathing were the only things worth listening to. 

“Just you, Jacks, mmhm,” Jan was holding onto her words by a thin thread that was ready to snap and let her free fall. “Only you could fuck me like this-”

Jan wasn’t sure where the next moan came from, whether it had escaped her own lips or Jackie’s, but she knew that she was being kissed and kissed and kissed in a way that held no regard for neatness. It was messy, filthy and deep.

She was wrapped up in Jackie, and they would fall together.

The thread snapped, and Jan gasped. She could faintly hear Jackie’s repetitions of mantras like _mine,_ but everything else felt bleary because Jackie had picked up her pace and was cradling Jan close as she attentively answered every plea of wanting more, wanting it harder, wanting her. 

Jan’s babbling might not have made sense, and quite honestly she couldn’t recall a single word she said as she moaned alongside the obscene sounds of her wetness that filled the citrine glow of the room with a hot, close feeling that would suffocate if they weren’t so wrapped up in eachother. 

They were oxygen sources of sorts, tangible amalgamations of want and need. 

One moment Jackie was asking her to come like it was the most considerate thing Jan could ever do for her, and in the next she was kissing her thick hair and cradling her limp body in her arms. Jan could have fallen asleep right there, head tucked into the crook of Jackie’s neck, and it took her a few moments before she began to nuzzle against the soft skin there and huffed a warm laugh.

“What?” Jackie murmured against her hair, hushed and sensitive to the quiet of the room.

“You’re still dressed.” 

Their simpers reverberated off the walls and came back to them in sweet echoes that were as gentle as the way Jackie cupped Jan’s face for a chaste kiss before peeling off her own clothes layer by layer. Jan watched her adoringly, dishevelled and content, until Jackie swatted her with her shirt and told her to go grab a shower. She let her use the last of the hot water every time and never complained. She teased her about being a princess underneath soft blankets and against the shell of Jan’s ear, but then always got up early and insisted she was a morning shower kinda woman anyway.

Jan suspected that she would say that even if she wasn’t. 

And by the amber glow of readily melted candles, the sight of Jackie pulling back the bedsheets for a freshly showered Jan to climb underneath told her that she was right. 


End file.
